Jan. 2nd, 2010

Push

Jan. 2nd, 2010 07:50 pm
brightrosefox: (Default)
Yesterday: Exhaustion and achiness beyond comprehension, until medication was taken and yoga was performed. This morning: More aching before medication. It's been better.

Note to self: It is almost time to refill the Soma. Also, remember to take the MSM, Vitamin C, Vitamin D, and Turmeric every day without fail. Seriously. Promise.

I often become absurdly envious of people who can move, work, dance, lift, ambulate, and manipulate without constant, nearly-debilitating pain and tenderness. I sometimes remember what that was like, and then the fog happens again.

"Just push through! As long as you can work through the pain, it's worth it!" I tell myself this when I have to, because Things Need Doing. Sometimes I can't. Sometimes I absolutely cannot, and I guess that's okay, because I can Do Things when I feel better. I've encountered chronic pain patients who have given up. As in, they refuse to even wash dishes even while leaning against the sink, refuse to fold clothes even while sitting on the bed against a pillow, refuse to Do Anything. Not necessarily because of that constant pain, but because they make themselves that way, they catastrophize, they believe they won't get better and so they won't bother trying. I never want to be that way. I never want that. I will never accept that.

Adam leaves for work tomorrow. He will go to Nevada, then to California. He will probably be gone for most of January. In the meantime, I will have Charlotte and Billy and Beca and James, and I will of course hunt for jobs and write my novel and do what needs to be done.

Push

Jan. 2nd, 2010 07:50 pm
brightrosefox: (Default)
Yesterday: Exhaustion and achiness beyond comprehension, until medication was taken and yoga was performed. This morning: More aching before medication. It's been better.

Note to self: It is almost time to refill the Soma. Also, remember to take the MSM, Vitamin C, Vitamin D, and Turmeric every day without fail. Seriously. Promise.

I often become absurdly envious of people who can move, work, dance, lift, ambulate, and manipulate without constant, nearly-debilitating pain and tenderness. I sometimes remember what that was like, and then the fog happens again.

"Just push through! As long as you can work through the pain, it's worth it!" I tell myself this when I have to, because Things Need Doing. Sometimes I can't. Sometimes I absolutely cannot, and I guess that's okay, because I can Do Things when I feel better. I've encountered chronic pain patients who have given up. As in, they refuse to even wash dishes even while leaning against the sink, refuse to fold clothes even while sitting on the bed against a pillow, refuse to Do Anything. Not necessarily because of that constant pain, but because they make themselves that way, they catastrophize, they believe they won't get better and so they won't bother trying. I never want to be that way. I never want that. I will never accept that.

Adam leaves for work tomorrow. He will go to Nevada, then to California. He will probably be gone for most of January. In the meantime, I will have Charlotte and Billy and Beca and James, and I will of course hunt for jobs and write my novel and do what needs to be done.

Push

Jan. 2nd, 2010 07:50 pm
brightrosefox: (Default)
Yesterday: Exhaustion and achiness beyond comprehension, until medication was taken and yoga was performed. This morning: More aching before medication. It's been better.

Note to self: It is almost time to refill the Soma. Also, remember to take the MSM, Vitamin C, Vitamin D, and Turmeric every day without fail. Seriously. Promise.

I often become absurdly envious of people who can move, work, dance, lift, ambulate, and manipulate without constant, nearly-debilitating pain and tenderness. I sometimes remember what that was like, and then the fog happens again.

"Just push through! As long as you can work through the pain, it's worth it!" I tell myself this when I have to, because Things Need Doing. Sometimes I can't. Sometimes I absolutely cannot, and I guess that's okay, because I can Do Things when I feel better. I've encountered chronic pain patients who have given up. As in, they refuse to even wash dishes even while leaning against the sink, refuse to fold clothes even while sitting on the bed against a pillow, refuse to Do Anything. Not necessarily because of that constant pain, but because they make themselves that way, they catastrophize, they believe they won't get better and so they won't bother trying. I never want to be that way. I never want that. I will never accept that.

Adam leaves for work tomorrow. He will go to Nevada, then to California. He will probably be gone for most of January. In the meantime, I will have Charlotte and Billy and Beca and James, and I will of course hunt for jobs and write my novel and do what needs to be done.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Okay. It was kind of... bad. Had a ton of weird, pointless problems and issues, but overall it was okay. I don't hate it, but I certainly don't love it. At all.
I still want to punch Russell T. Davies in the mouth and apologize to David Tennant and John Simms.
I cried like a baby once the Doctor answered the four knocks and opened the door. The acting sold it. The script was bizarre and pointless, but David Tennant, John Simms, and Bernard Cribbins managed to spin some of it into tarnished gold.
Honestly, any part with Wilfred made me cry. It wasn't the character, it was the actor. I just wish Donna had been involved.
And the Ood song at the end. Oh, the Ood song.
David Tennant, I will miss the hell out of you. You deserved so much better than RTD's crazy sendoff.
Sigh.

Well, then.
Hello, Eleven!

Spoilers can happen in comments.

No, really, I'm done with RTD. He doesn't get it.

Also: Whoa. Seriously. Wow.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Okay. It was kind of... bad. Had a ton of weird, pointless problems and issues, but overall it was okay. I don't hate it, but I certainly don't love it. At all.
I still want to punch Russell T. Davies in the mouth and apologize to David Tennant and John Simms.
I cried like a baby once the Doctor answered the four knocks and opened the door. The acting sold it. The script was bizarre and pointless, but David Tennant, John Simms, and Bernard Cribbins managed to spin some of it into tarnished gold.
Honestly, any part with Wilfred made me cry. It wasn't the character, it was the actor. I just wish Donna had been involved.
And the Ood song at the end. Oh, the Ood song.
David Tennant, I will miss the hell out of you. You deserved so much better than RTD's crazy sendoff.
Sigh.

Well, then.
Hello, Eleven!

Spoilers can happen in comments.

No, really, I'm done with RTD. He doesn't get it.

Also: Whoa. Seriously. Wow.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Okay. It was kind of... bad. Had a ton of weird, pointless problems and issues, but overall it was okay. I don't hate it, but I certainly don't love it. At all.
I still want to punch Russell T. Davies in the mouth and apologize to David Tennant and John Simms.
I cried like a baby once the Doctor answered the four knocks and opened the door. The acting sold it. The script was bizarre and pointless, but David Tennant, John Simms, and Bernard Cribbins managed to spin some of it into tarnished gold.
Honestly, any part with Wilfred made me cry. It wasn't the character, it was the actor. I just wish Donna had been involved.
And the Ood song at the end. Oh, the Ood song.
David Tennant, I will miss the hell out of you. You deserved so much better than RTD's crazy sendoff.
Sigh.

Well, then.
Hello, Eleven!

Spoilers can happen in comments.

No, really, I'm done with RTD. He doesn't get it.

Also: Whoa. Seriously. Wow.

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